


Nesting

by quicksilver_nightsky



Series: Nests [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alpha Noctis, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Ignis Scientia, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Nesting, Omega gladio, Roadtrip, Unreliable Narrator, omega Prompto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-09 19:47:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17413142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilver_nightsky/pseuds/quicksilver_nightsky
Summary: The nest has to be just right. But it’s all wrong wrong WRONG! The alpha’s scent is missing and he doesn’t like it! It’s not right!





	1. Lost Supplies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DuoMaxwell2x4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuoMaxwell2x4/gifts).



> Me, writing this yesterday: please be a one-shot  
> My brain: -wakes up this morning- I’m bored of this now. 
> 
> Hoping posting it and getting y’all encouragement will kick my brain into continuing. Ugh.

The thing was. They were only meant to be away for a few days, maybe a week at maximum. Sail to Altissia, get Noct hitched, then back to the capital. Prompto had his last heat a week before they left, so packing extras wasn’t even an option. Four guys in one car, not a lot of room for suitcases. 

Except. That’s not how it went. 

Two weeks into their now crazy road trip — stopping at Longwythe on their way between Galdin and Hammerhead on a shopping errand for Takka — Gladio put his hands on his hips and said: “you lot spend the next few nights in the motel.”

Prompto gaped at him in confusion, Noct seemed disinterested as he fiddled with his phone, but it was Iggy who spoke: “are you certain? You wouldn’t rather _we_ camp?”

“No.” Gladio’s tone was flat and aggressive. “Motels always smell wrong.”

“The nearest haven is located near the mines,” Ignis said, his lips pursing. “I really would feel more comfortable if we could find somewhere closer by. The Prairie Outpost, perhaps?”

Gladio grunted in denial, shaking his head. “Too close. Too many alphas.”

Iggy sighed and took off his glasses to clean, but didn’t say anything else. Prompto was confused. He’d never heard of alphas getting territorial about other alphas during their ruts. Rumour had it they just had orgies when they synched up. 

Noct finally looked up from his phone. “You need anything?” He asked, sounding bored as he did so. Not that it wasn’t how he sounded pretty much all the time though. 

Gladio shook his head. “Tent’s enough.”

That conversation nagged at him all the way as they unloaded the car, and he and Noct checked in while Iggy drove Gladio out to the mines. Then, when he was flopping down on the bed and wriggling into the blankets to get comfortable, it hit him:

“Gladio’s in pre-heat!”

Noct looked up from his phone. “Yeah…?”

“He’s an _omega_?!” He asked, shocked. 

“...duh?” Noct squinted at him. “Wait. You didn’t know?”

“No!”

“How did you not know?” He asked, half-laughing. “He smells almost as much as you do.”

“I… smell?” He felt awkward about that. He’d never been able to tell other people’s orientation before. “Is it bad?”

Noct laughed slightly and threw a pillow at him. “Very funny.” He relaxed back into the bed. “Gladio can’t smell you either. Maybe it’s an omega thing.”

“Maybe.” He tucked himself into a loose curl, facing away from the prince. 

Okay so. He knew Noct knew he was an omega. He’d been at Noct’s place when he presented at seventeen. (Noct had sent Iggy out to the drug store to get him suppressants and slick pads.) But he didn’t know it was something other _people_ could be aware of. Other alphas and maybe betas. That he _stunk_ and they could smell it. 

No wonder Iggy didn’t like him that much. He was always tuning his senses either to the world around him or his culinary skills. Prompto probably clogged his nose up. 

The bed bounced slightly as Noct jumped on it — playfully wrestling him until he was flat on his back, wrists pinned above his head. “You’re brooding. That’s my thing.”

He growled up at him, a half-joking _annoyed omega with their space invaded_ sound. Noct replied with an equally not-serious territorial _my space, I’m claiming it_ rumble. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind, Prom,” he pressed. 

He pulled up an alternative, quick. Something he had been worried about, but not just at that moment. “I’m about a week off my own heat,” he mumbled. “I don’t have any of my things.”

“Didn’t expect to be out this long. None of us did.” Noct lapped at his neck in a soothing way — not over his sensitive scent glands, but close enough to cover it a little. It was an affectionate, pack-bonding gesture. “Inserts and pads will be easy. Gladio brought suppressors, he might have enough for you. But if he doesn’t, we’ll find something. Chemists don’t produce them outside Insomnia. But they’ll have herbal remedies or something.” 

“Right.” That wasn’t what he was anxious about. 

It was his nesting stuff. The pillows of the exact right softness, blankets that had the right texture. And his… additions. 

Nesting was about pack, more than it was mating. He wanted the scents of the people he cared for close by him. 

His first had been a white silk scarf-shawl thing he’d stolen from his mom’s wardrobe. She’d never worn it, so it still smelled factory fresh. But he’d tracked down the exact perfume from Tennebrae that matched the one on the letter Lady Lunafreya had sent him. (Five hundred crowns had made his mom call from Altissia to yell at him for using his emergency credit card at a department store. He was grounded, but they were never around to enforce it anyway.)

Getting something from Noct had been harder. They were friends but they weren’t close yet. Eventually he’d managed to “accidentally” wear the prince’s school shirt home from gym class — and laughed it off when Noct texted him about it. (He’d never asked for it back, just had Iggy buy him a new one.)

Iggy and Gladio had taken longer for him to get attached. Getting something from Gladio was easy. He’d swiped a towel from the Crownsguard locker room after one of their training sessions. 

Iggy was much, much harder. In the end, Ignis had offered him a silky pyjama shirt in a particularly irritable pre-heat — “is this what you’re after, Prompto?” He asked, sounding super irritated about it too. 

All of that. Gone. Lost in the wreckage of their home. Their city. It was a small thing to care about in comparison. But it was gonna make him crazy in a few days. 

Noct licked over his neck again and flopped beside him on the bed. “Come on. Verse me at King’s Knight.”

“Yeah yeah, okay bossy.”

***

Gladio came back from his solo camping trip a snappy, irritable jerk. (Not all that different than usual.) They travelled around for a couple days and then Prompto woke up in a Mood™.

Everything was too bright, too sensitive. His clothes _itched_ at his skin, and he wanted to be naked. Naked and comfortable in a soft, close, dark nest. One that smelled of pack. 

He pilfered around the campsite. Gladio had abandoned his shirt halfway through his work out, and then ran off to run the beach with Noct. He grabbed it before Iggy spotted it and cleaned it up, stuffing it in his duffle bag. 

Iggy’s ripped apron (sliced by his cooking knife) was in the garbage which — gross, but — didn’t smell so bad. He stuffed that away too. 

Noct next. That was important. He probably could’ve done without Iggy’s — he loved the guy, but it was hard to really bond with someone who just tolerated you. But Noct was an absolute _must_ — he’d had a few heats without the scent of Noct for his nest before he’d managed to swindle the school shirt and they’d been unbearable. Restless, irritable — not even in the normal perma-boner way. He’d been angry about his nest, unsatisfied. It was incomplete, even with Luna’s scarf buried amongst the pillows. 

(He got antsy about Gladio and Iggy’s scents being missing once he’d thought of them as pack, but nothing like missing Noct’s.)

Noct and Gladio came back together, laughing and jostling each other. Iggy took one look at Noct, covered in sand and said a firm. “No.”

“No?”

“You are _not_ getting in the car in that state. Strip off immediately.”

It was almost the perfect opportunity. Prompto sidled up to them as Noct stripped off his shirt. “You guys went running without me?” He sulked. 

“You were sleeping,” Noct replied, shirt coming up to expose his bare chest. He reached to take it from him, but it disappeared in familiar blue light. 

“These can stay in the armiger until I can locate an appropriate laundromat facility,” Ignis said curtly. 

Noct laughed and headed past him towards the tent. 

“Gladiolus, next time you conspire with his highness to irritate me, do ensure it doesn’t involve his Crownsguard Fatigues. His casual attire can be replaced at little expense, but you will remember the royal tailor is no longer available?”

Prompto hurried away once Noct came out of the tent dressed in his unfairly tight jeans and that white shirt Prompto had picked for him. 

Way too attractive for his pre-heat brain. Rude. 

“Ready to go?” He asked. 

“Just about awake,” he replied with a lazy smile. 

“You’ve been out running all morning,” Prompto laughed. 

“Yeah. And now I deserve a break.” 

Another perfect opportunity. “Well.” He flexed his muscles and picked up Noct’s duffle bag. “Save your noodle arms. I’ll carry your stuff.”

He jolted forward when he got a slap on the back, and Gladio’s hands yanked the bag out of his hands. The rest of their luggage were already loaded up on his muscular arms. (How did he even develop that much muscle with omegastrone coursing through his system?) “Don’t worry about it, blondie. Mother Hen put me on pack mule duty as punishment for getting his highness sandy.”

Motherkweker. He was getting all agitated. He needed to be nesting soon, but his preparations kept getting fucked up. 

He muttered “I could manage,” and stomped off after Noct. 

Once the camp was packed up and they were all settled into the car, Ignis smoothly navigated out of Galdin’s parking bay. “Where to, Highness?”

Prompto cleared his throat. “I’m gonna need somewhere to stay the next few days.”

There was an awkward silence from the back seat, and Ignis momentarily looked away from the road to look at him. “So soon?”

“Sooner I can start nesting, the better,” Prompto muttered. 

“I’m good with camping,” Gladio volunteered. 

“The caravans seen about outposts are established as safe nesting zones for omegas,” Iggy reported. 

Noct unfolded the map and was frowning at it. “Prairie Outpost?” He volunteered. 

Prompto cringed, just at the thought of it. “Too many alphas.” He turned to glance back at Gladio when he realised the other omega had spoken at the same time. 

“But the haven’s close by,” Noct muttered sulkily. But he flipped through the page. 

“The caravan at Hammerhead is visible from Coltisse Haven,” Ignis volunteered. 

“No,” Noct said sharply. “Not Hammerhead.”

“Highness, you really oughtn’t—”

“It’s a no on Hammerhead, Iggy,” Gladio said in a no-nonsense voice. 

Irritable, Ignis was quiet as he turned to drive through to Duscae. Noct folded and refolded the map to study the map markers in pen scrawlings different Tipsters had marked down with whatever was on hand. 

Eventually, he mumbled: “looks like Burbost Souvenir Emporium is good for it?”

“In Cleigne?” Ignis echoed in disbelief. “That’s clear on the other side of the _kingdom_ , Noctis. It’ll take us until evening to get there!”

“I’m sorry.” The car fell quiet at Prompto’s pathetic little whimper. He didn’t want them fighting about him. He wasn’t a real part of their pack to start with, and if he was causing arguments they’d only be tempted to push him out. “I don’t mean to cause trouble.”

“It’s okay, Prompto,” Noct said soothingly. “You don’t have to apologise.”

“If I’d thought to bring suppressants I could’ve just ridden it out in the car…”

“Smelling like that?” Ignis asked dubiously, face pinching slightly. 

“Ignis,” Noct warned.

He wanted to cry. His eyes were stinging with it — stupid pre-heat, messing with his emotions. He could deal with Iggy’s dislike towards him without crying normally!

He sniffed. “I-it’s fine guys. I don’t need a heat caravan. I c-can stay in the tent and you guys can treat yourself to a motel or something…”

“Definitely not,” Ignis cut in firmly. “Gladio was permitted to see his heat through alone at a haven because he was on suppressants, and is more than capable of taking down any alpha who attempts to corner him. _You_ answer neither of these requirements.”

He sniffled again. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t think of another solution. “I’m sorry,” he said again. 

“What about the chocobo ranch?” Gladio’s deep, soothing voice rumbled through the car. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Prom?” Noct asked, with soft reassurance. “To see the chocobos? Nest near them?”

He wiped at his face, embarrassed. “I do like chocobos…” he mumbled. It was the first place one of them hadn’t immediately vetoed. 

“I dare say Wiz might have a room above the barn available for his favourite hunters while we wait out your heat,” Ignis agreed. “If not, there are a couple of havens nearby.”

“Yeah. Head to the ranch, Specs,” Noct said. 

“Try and get some sleep, Prompto,” Gladio said, still in that soft voice. “We’ll wake you up when we make a pit stop.”


	2. Protect and Provide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Noct is a brat and wanted even me to stay away from Prompto so here’s a chapter in his POView. 
> 
> Plz let this be a three shot.

Noct nearly threw himself out of the car as soon as Iggy parked on the grass outside the chocobo ranch. It had started drizzling almost as soon as they left the desert and Iggy had to put the top up. Being trapped in the car with Prompto’s mouthwatering scent as he got closer to his heat was torture in and of itself. 

Specs was no less quick to get out of the car, and Noct shot him a quick glare. Prompto’s scent wasn’t for _him_ to enjoy. The beta just returned his glare with an irritable look and turned to speak to Gladio and Prompto as they left the car. 

“I propose that Gladio, you assist Prompto in taking his things to the caravan and arranging it appropriately; while Noct and I make arrangements with Wiz and peruse the store for additional supplies.” 

Damn his alpha instincts pushing and prodding him to protect and provide for ~~his~~ _the_ omega. “I can help Prompto,” he suggested instead. 

“Uh-Huh. You gonna carry this crate of vitamin waters yourself?” Gladio deadpanned, already lifting the crate onto his shoulder with an effortless movement. “Come on, Blondie. Let’s get you settled.” 

The two omegas walked off towards the caravan. Noct waited until they were out of hearing range before letting the territorial growl escape his throat. 

“Really, Noct?” Specs remarked bitterly. “You can not possibly perceive Gladio as a threat.”

“Gladio’s always flirting with omegas.”

“Gladio flirts with females of all secondary gender assignments. I think we can consider Prompto safe from his advances.” Specs took off his eponymous specs to clean them, then settled them back on his face. “Shall we?”

Wiz was happy to let them stay in his guest room while Prompto needed the caravan — but warned them but he only had a double and a single trundle bed. Noct confirmed that would be fine — and the two of them headed over to the shop. 

The post had a weird collection of organic, washable and reusable pads and no inserts. But they were better than nothing. Plenty of non-perishables, none of the snack foods Prompto liked. He grabbed some of the human packets of gysahl greens too. They fit Prompto’s dietary requirements for snack foods anyway — organic, low fat, low carbs, high nutrients. 

Arms loaded up (he refused to let Specs _touch_ his supplies), they headed over to the caravan. The door was open, so Noct didn’t hesitate with entering. 

It was an absolute mess inside. Prompto had yanked everything out and open and was on his hands and knees, scrubbing furiously at all the nooks and crannies. The air stunk of stale heat, more omegas than he could count. But it didn’t seem to bother either Gladio or Prompto. Specs’s nose wrinkled up in disgust. Noct chose to focus on the enticing scent of Prompto’s pre-heat instead — even if it did come with some inconvenient consequences. 

“Do you need any assistance cleaning, Prompto?” Ignis asked, his voice pinched with irritation from the clogged scents in the room. 

The omega seemed to tense just hearing it. “N-no,” he stuttered. “It’s okay. If I do it I can set everything up exactly how I like it.”

Specs pushed up his glasses. “Are you quite sure?” He pressed. “We have none of us anything to do, and we would all be happy to help you get comfortably settled for nesting as soon as possible.”

Prompto seemed to hesitate at that, pausing his hands on the scrubbing brush but not looking up. “I guess if you’re super bored and looking for something to do… Maybe you and Gladio can take all the blankets and pillows out to air?”

It was the best they were going to get towards a request. Noct nodded at them both to obey, and his two retainers began gathering up the (not inconsiderable) number of bed linens outside. It helped to clear out the stale smells of old omegas at least. 

But that did make Prompto’s scent more prominent. Noct sat down at the dining table, so the wooden surface helped him be less obvious. 

“Anything I can do?” Noct asked. 

“Nah,” Prompto said. “Can’t make the prince do chores for me!”

He pulled a face at that. Both at the reminder of his status (rare enough from his omega… best friend. His omega best friend.) and the denial of being allowed to help Prompto prepare for his nest. His instincts were pushing him to protect and provide — and Prompto was letting _Specs_ and Gladio help but not him!

“You sure? Can’t put away your food or… I don’t know, test out the mattress for you to make sure it’s comfortable?” The last part was added playfully — cause Prompto expected a joke — but his alpha instincts were pleading to get on that bed and rub his scent all over it. Make sure any challengers could smell that Prompto wasn’t without protection. 

He laughed. “Dude, if you wanna nap, go ahead and be my guest.” There was something just off about the suggestion. It wasn’t the normal, joking ‘Noct likes to sleep!’ joke. There was something… genuine about it. 

And then Noct remembered. A conversation he’d had with Specs years ago…

  


It was a few months after Prompto — his best friend and the only person in his life who wasn’t employed by the crown — had presented as omega and forever stained his couch with his amazing scent. 

Prompto had run out early after gym class to get to photography club, and by the time Noct was ready to get dressed he knew something was immediately wrong. The shirt that was tangled up with the rest of his clothes was not his — instantly smelled like teenage omega, a scent he could recognise anywhere. 

Prompto had accidentally worn his shirt out of the locker room. His omega nose probably couldn’t pick up that he’d worn the wrong one. 

He could’ve immediately gone to swap it. But Specs _was_ waiting to collect him. (And if that beta in the year below them who kept looking at Prompto all _senpai plz notice me_ got a whiff of Prompto covered in Noct’s scent, then that was a bonus that had nothing at all to do with his decision.)

Specs sniffed the air as soon as he approached and looked thoroughly disproving. “Highness, if this is some kind of juvenile attempt to mark your territory…” 

“Prompto got dressed first!” 

Specs didn’t have a response to that, but did look thoroughly disapproving. 

So he waited until Prompto was home and then sent him a text message about it. The omega only laughed it off. 

Pleased at an excuse to spend his thankfully free afternoon with his best friend, he looked up from his phone at Specs in the kitchen. “Hey, can you drive me to Prompto’s place so I can get my shirt back?”

Ignis set down his chopping knife and pushed up his specs with one finger. “Noctis,” he said in that frustratingly calm and reserved tone, “are you intimate enough with Prompto’s scent to determine his cycle?” 

He flushed in embarrassment. “I’m not telling you that!” 

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t believe it was important, Noct,” Specs continued, infuriatingly calm. “Allow me to adjust the question however: is his pre-heat within the next few days?”

Face hot, he mumbled: “should start tonight.”

“Hm. I hypothesised as much.” He picked up the knife. “No, Highness. I will not take you to collect the shirt.”

“I can control myself, Specs!” Noct snapped, angry. “I’ve been near him in _heat_ before.”

“You misunderstand me,” he responded. “If you wish me to collect Prompto for the two of you to spend time together, if he agreed I would. But I don’t think it would be beneficial to his preheat psyche to reclaim your clothing.”

“...huh?”

Specs sighed. “You attended alpha sex education classes. What did they tell you about nesting?”

  


Omegas, it turned out, were more sensitive to pack bonds than people with the other secondary assignments. They may not be able to detect the intricacies of a scent, but they still recognised an individual’s smell. During nesting, in their pre- and heat, they liked to have their pack’s smell around them. 

Years ago, Prompto’s stealing his shirt has been an indicator that he considered Noct pack. And if eventually Noct found a box in his room that had Iggy’s pyjama shirt and one of Gladio’s sweaty towels and a scarf that smelled of Luna’s perfume, he never brought it up. 

So out here, his instincts to make Prompto as comfortable and safe in his vulnerable state as possible told him he had to smother the smell of the mattress with his own. 

He gave an exaggerated yawn. “Yeah. That sounds like a perfect task for me,” he said playfully. Brushing past Prompto, he flopped down on the tragically uncomfortable bed. 

As the omega went around the room, he discreetly rubbed his scent glands — neck and wrists, armpits and (after checking Prompto was busy deep in a cupboard) tugged down his jeans and briefs to grind his scent all over the mattress. 

By the time Prompto was done in the cupboard, Noct was innocently lying on the mattress, playing with his phone. His omega — no, not his. Prompto would be none the wiser about his activity, but maybe the comfort of his scent would help him settle in a heat that was going to be otherwise difficult without suppressors. 

Eventually, Prompto made a dozen trips in and out with the bedding that now smelled heaps better. He dumped the last of it on the floor and gave a relieved sigh. 

“Done cleaning?” Noct asked. 

Prompto was dripping with sweat — from the exertion of vigorous scrubbing, and his body temperature rising as his heat got closer. His scent was choking out the air in the room and Noct absolutely hated whoever invented skinny jeans. He wanted his loose cargos back. 

“Yeah. I’m good.” 

Noct heaved himself out of the bed. “That mattress is terrible,” he complained. 

Prompto laughed. “Well, you don’t gotta deal with it, bro.” He shifted awkwardly and glanced at the door. “I’m, Uh… I mean, thanks for keeping me company but…”

“Wanna nest, right?” Noct asked, giving him a smile that helped show his understanding, and reassurance. “It’s cool. I’ll get out of your hair.” He headed towards the door, but paused to take a deep breath of Prompto’s delicious scent before he stepped out. “I’ll bring you dinner later, okay?”

Prompto nodded. “Can you ask Iggy to make me a salad or something? I won’t want anything too heavy in my belly.” 

Oh fuck that. Specs wasn’t going anywhere _near_ Prompto’s food. He’d make the salad himself, even though it went against everything he stood for. He’d do it for Prompto. “Yeah. You can have salad.” He hesitated again. “Okay. Um. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Prompto nodded and, giving him a grateful smile, shut the door on him. 

Noct looked around and settled into one of the plastic chairs arranged outside the caravan. He couldn’t be in there, with the omega, helping him settle in his nest and see through his heat. But he was damn well going to stay close by and protect him from anything like a threat that came by. The caravans were scent and soundproof, so it wasn’t like Prompto would be at risk from him. 

He’d sit in this chair for the whole week if he had to. Gladio and Specs could have the room in the ranch. He’d stay right here. 


	3. Nestled

Once Noct was shut out of the caravan, Prompto got to work. He gave the mattress a disgusted look. How many omegas had laid on that, got their sweat and slick and jizz all over it and seeping into the cushioning? Gross. 

He yanked it off the bed, folded it and shoved it into one of the cupboards. Then he washed his hands. Thoroughly. 

He wished he was at home, in his bed, with all his things, and with Noct’s old shirt. But if wishes were chocobos… 

He folded the squishiest, thickest blankets to layer on the metal bed frame. Try and give himself a soft underlayer to compensate for the discarded mattress. Smooth sheets tucked over the top so his skin didn’t itch from the blankets. 

The darkest, thickest blankets were tucked and draped around the frame and walls to create a nice dark tent. Kicking off his clothes, he grabbed everything else and hid inside the makeshift den. He tried to arrange the pillows, the sheets comfortably around himself in a nesty shape — Gladio’s shirt and Iggy’s apron tucked amongst the pillows near his head. 

He sprawled out, squirmed into the nest and sighed deeply. 

It was less than ten seconds before he was wriggling again, dissatisfied. It wasn’t _right_. He was a shitty omega and he couldn’t even build a proper nest. 

He ripped up the pillows and sheets with an aggressive snarl, kneeling as he plumped them and tried to reconstruct it again. Higher on one side and lower on the edge near the opening of the den. Then he wriggled back into the pillows and tried to make himself comfy. 

He took a deep breath, and a low whimper escaped his throat. No. It wasn’t right. It had to be just right! What sort of piss-poor omega couldn’t even make a good nest? He bet Gladio was a champion nester. 

Eyes watering, he sat up again and ripped all the pillows off. He slapped his hand down on them, flattening them back down so they weren’t so loose. He took out Gladio’s shirt and shook it out, smoothing it across the layer of pillows. Gladio. He’d never known the Shield was an omega before, so he’d never considered him a rival in the pack. (If he expected anyone to be an omega in their group, it was pack mom Iggy.) Did he have to now? Because he knew he couldn’t measure up. 

Prompto looked more like the traditional omega, sure — short and scrawny, with skinny shoulders and comparatively broad hips. (Not like a woman’s hips, but definitely wider than Noct’s. Or Gladio’s.) With high levels of omegastrone, he struggled enough to just keep the weight off his belly, hips and ass. No matter how much time he spent in the gym, pumping them irons, getting them gains, he couldn’t do more than get some nice definition in his arms. He was average, nothing to write home about. He wasn’t pretty or anything — with his chubby cheeks and speckled skin. Not genes you wanted to propagate. Gladio was something different, interesting — and a babe to boot. 

No wonder the alpha didn’t want him, wouldn’t contribute to his nest. He felt a spasm in his chest and oh great, now his eyes were tearing up. 

Stupid pre-heat. Stupid mood swings. Stupid nest. 

He punched the pillows until he was angry and no longer felt like crying. The nest had to be just right. It was important. It’s what he did for the pack. But it was all wrong _wrong **wrong**_! The alpha’s scent was missing and he didn’t like it! It wasn’t right! It was a shitty nest and he was a shitty omega. 

No wonder Iggy barely tolerated him, Gladio made digs about his ability to pick up chicks or be any decent kinda fighter. And no wonder Noct could never, ever consider him a viable mate. 

He collapsed face-first into the mess of pillows and just let himself slump. Fuck. He’d known his pre-heat was going to be rough this time, with no suppressants. He’d never had an unsurpressed heat before — and his first pre-heat had been a blip. But he hated this. Hated it more than anything. 

There was knocking on the door. 

Prompto sighed, tilted his head up to hear it. It wasn’t loud enough to be made from Gladio’s muscular fists — not the polite, even and unobtrusive taps of Iggy. 

He took out his phone and shot a message to Noct: _just come in dude._

The door opened and Noct stepped inside. “You in your blanket fort, Prompto?” 

He grunted in acknowledgment. 

“Brought you salad,” he said, footsteps approaching the nest. “Can I come in or have you got it all perfectly aligned in there?” 

He grabbed at one of the blankets hanging from the frame and yanked it down. The light was harsh, the den was ruined but what the hell. He was doing a shitty job anyway. Why even try? 

“Not having fun, huh?” Noct asked, perching on the edge of the bed frame. 

“No,” he muttered. “This is shit. Everything is shitty. I hate it. I wish I was a beta.” 

“Hey… hey… it’s okay.” Noct put down a bowl of roughly chopped salad and began to stroke fingers through his hair. “I know this rough on you, Prompto,” he said, adding a quiet rumble of a growl. A soft reassuring noise from an alpha to his packmates. “But you should never wish to be something you’re not. You’re Prompto. _You’re_ mine, my pack. We wouldn’t want you to be anything different.” 

He keened softly. It was exactly what he needed to hear. 

“Alright. Shift over. I’m coming in.” 

“Don’t,” he said. “It’s a shitty nest. I can’t even make a nest right.” 

“It’s not so bad,” Noct murmured. “You made it really nice.” Ignoring Prompto’s previous plea not to come in, he kicked off his shoes and curled up next to him. “Soft. Comfy. It was better before you yanked the blanket down, but that’s a quick fix.” 

He pouted, curling back into Noct. “Whatever.” 

Maybe it _wasn’t_ so bad. His alpha liked it, enough to even come inside. He took a deep breath — feeling something in him finally relax at being surrounded by the scent of his pack. 

Noct rumbled a comforting growl, nuzzling into his neck and licking at his skin in an affectionate gesture. 

When he’d calmed down enough, he sat up a little — pulling the blanket back up to enclose the den. He basically _preened_ at the content sigh Noct gave when it was dark again. Stupid omega instincts. It didn’t mean anything, Noct just preferred somewhere dark and comfy to nap. 

Trying not to disturb Noct’s position, he rumbled to himself as he reconstructed the pillows comfortably into the half-bowl kinda shape he preferred — open on the side where the den opened so he didn’t feel claustrophobic. 

Once he was satisfied, he gave a nod and squirmed back into place next to Noctis. More than half asleep, the alpha gave a soothing, rumbly sort of growl that was more like a purr — and his arm shifted forward to spoon up behind Prompto. Blushing — Noct probably wasn’t even aware he was doing it — Prompto closed his eyes. 

He’d done it. He made a good nest. Finally, he could relax. 

He ate the salad — glad for the larger chunks so he could pick them up with his fingers — and then curled up in his alpha’s embrace to sleep. 

When he woke up, his heat would have started. He’d be at the mercy of the full force of his mating instincts, the urge to be fucked full and knotted and claimed. He had no idea how badly it would go. 

But for now, he was content. Nestled comfortably in a safe space, surrounded by the scent of his pack, with his alpha snoozing beside him. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, it’s done! Yay three-shot!
> 
> (But I’m not promising there won’t be a sequel.)


End file.
